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with-my-calamitous-love · 2 months ago

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SHOTGUN SHOT THROUGH THE HEART / CAN'T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

keigo x reader x touya

part 2/4, part 1 here

the day of touya’s supposed arrest was the day you almost ended it all. a familiar winged hero comes to your rescue. olivia rodrigo mentioned!

inspired by drivers license + getaway car

today was enough to kill you.

4:26 am. your eyes open with no time for dreary morning exhaustion. his arms feel especially warm that morning, making it all the more harder to pry yourself away from him. in the end, it would be two broken hearts, and 4 hands bloody.

what kills you is how peaceful he looks. how touya, a man who had fire inside his heart, felt some semblance of comfort when he laid next to you. you prayed he was dreaming, dreaming of something better than this.

you pack throw your keys and what little cash there is left into the purse he stole for you. your as quiet as possible, not necessarily to conceal your movement, but rather your cries. you don't want to do this. you want to go there, and lay with your favorite arsonist. you want to lay there and love him into the world catches up with you. but you fucking can't.

and the worst part is, he's watching you.

he could stand up. he could yell, and demand to know what's going on. he could burn you to a crisp or pull you into his arms. he could promise you forever or break your heart more as you slowly twist the doorknob open.

he hated the fact that he was suspicious about you, but its god's cruelest joke that that gut feeling is somehow always right. he doesn't what exactly is going down, but he knows you're not coming back. his hearts not pure, far from it, but it still hurts him watching you leave. you turned into the one thing he wished you never would be.

but he's quiet. because deep down, somewhere deep in his heart, he knew this would happen eventually. he can't find it in himself to blame you. he blames himself for thinking you wouldn't.

so with a gentle, silent sigh, he lets you go.

just because someone expects betrayal doesn't mean they can't cry when it happens.

you breathe again once you finally reach the car, ducking past the sirens, officers and god damn heroes that are waiting outside the hotel. many of them, the figures you see on t.v and on magazines attempt to acknowledge you, to thank you for your efforts, but your oxygen is running out. you slam the door shut behind you and speed off into the early dusk of the morning.

red lights and stop signs become nothing but a blur as shaky sobs take over your lungs. your grip on the steering wheel loosens as you see his face in the rearview. your feet on the dashboard, laughing at crude jokes overtaking the sounds of traffic. you pray that he'll forgive you, though its useless.

by now, they've broken into the room.

by now, they've got him on his knees.

by know, he realizes just why you left so soon.

you drive alone, despite the various honks and sirens that become more and more evident at your recklessness. suddenly, you see him everywhere- sidewalks, car reflections, alleyways and deeply embedded in the crevices of your heart.

you said forever, and now you drove the getaway car.

when keigo calls you, you answer with a shaky huff as his voice comes through the receiver. he updates you on everything, much to your dismay.

"what do you mean you guys didn't arrest him!? what the fuck happened there?!" you scream.

your ex-fiance's voice is filled with guilt as he explains everything. "it... was a disaster. we underestimated him. he was unstoppable, angrier than i've ever seen him. and when i told him you were the one who gave up his location..."

your heart may as well have stopped when he said that.

"you... told him...?"

the blonde winces at the tone in your voice, realizing his slip up. for a hero that was so used to lying, being calculated and playing a role that wasn't for him, he struggled to hide the most of painful of truths to you.

"shit, i'm... fuck, i'm sorry, babe. it just slipped out." the coward in every man, and evidently in keigo, tries to cover up what he revealed about you. it obviously doesn't work.

a shaky, sob-filled scream escapes your throat as you dangerously speed through the traffic and onto the bridge connecting your now abandoned hiding spot to the city. other drivers are understandably honking at you, flipping you off and asking who the hell granted you your license. you're too distraught to care, seeing as the guilt of turning touya in overtakes you.

you did the right thing, and it tore your heart apart at the seems.

keigo is still on the phone with you, keeping note of the sirens and cars he hears from your end. he quickly tries to diffuse the situation before anything else happens. "[y/n], love, i'm gonna need you to pull over." he cautions. "i'll come to you."

"i'm fine." you lie, not wanting him to see you like this. you stare at the watery depths below, reasoning with yourself not to do anything rash. just make it back to your apartment, wrap yourself up in your bedsheets and lay there until this is all over.

keigo sees right through this, as if sensing your inner turmoil (if it wasn't already blatantly obvious.) he begs you just to pull over, to stop driving in the state your in, and just let him come to you. let him make sure you come out of this alive. its what he wants, and its probably what touya wants, too.

you grit your teeth at his pleas, too heartbroken to think rationally right now. you're a reckless, ticking time bomb, and you all know it. "god, i know you care about me, kei. i know you still have feelings for me."

he's silent on the other end of the phone. his heart clenches, wincing at your harshness. he was never trying to hide how he never fully got over you, even after you professed your love for the man you ran away with. somehow, you still had that hold on his heartstrings.

"yeah, well, so what if do? what difference does it make i still don't want you to kill yourself."

his hand shakes as he holds the phone in his hand, his worry growing more and more apparent with each passing second.

"you made me betray the person i loved so much, maybe as much as i loved you."

theres a heavy silence that hangs over the call screen. its wrong to blame keigo for what happened. either way, touya was still a dangerous villain who had to be stopped. all keigo did was open your eyes to the truth. probably because he's a hero, and thats what heroes do, but also because he loves you, and doesn't want to see your heartbreak over a criminal.

but its that last part that makes keigo's heart sink to his stomach. the idea that the amount of love you had for him was equivalent to the love you had for touya.

even after the end of your breakup, he still wished the best for you. he wished for you to be happy, just not happier than how you were with him. as selfish as that is.

his heart aches, the pain of what you're going through beginning to creep up on him too. he o desperately wants to tell you that everything will be okay, that he'll be your hero and take all your hurt away, but in that regard? he's powerless.

"keigo, i-"

he listens, hoping you'll finish your sentence. but you don't, even after he yells after you. "what? [y/n], what? hey!?"

his heart stops in his chest as a loud crash resonates over your end, followed by honking, screaming, and worst of all, the sound of something splashing into the watery depths below. what scares him the most is what he doesn't know. are you okay? can he still save you in time?

when the line goes dead, he quicky takes off, setting out to find you before its too late.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

theres an overwhelming cold feeling that takes you. you're oddly relaxed, despite the dull ache that erupts in your head. you aren't sure whats happening fully, your memories a messy haze. right now, nothing else matters as your body floats through the cold state of purgatory.

theres suddenly a sharp pain on your chest, followed by a desperate plea you can’t quite discern. theres a familiar taste on your lips, one that speaks love to you. that resounding pressure on your chest makes your heart thump, causing memories to suddenly replay in your mind like a film screen. memories with someone you loved.

you and keigo had met through some friend you can’t really remember. two deep in chardonnay, and you were the only one that guessed his antics during charades. the pounding of your heart continues as you recall the memory. you went from one kiss to getting married in just the span of a few months.

first loves are special like that.

he found pieces of you in every song he listened to, became utterly addicted to smell of your perfume and your bare shoulder in the morning. he loved your laughter, the way your hands fit in his. he loved that you saw him, even in the moments he could barely recognize himself.

the thing about first love, however, is that its also your first loss.

fears of trapping you in a marriage, the same one he had seen growing up, became all the more evident for the hero. he didn’t want to hold you down, to chain you to him when the two of you were meant to fly freely, happily. he felt like you deserved to love someone else.

and eventually, you did. though he never expected the firstborn son turned villain you ran off with.

but as keigo performs cpr on you, begging you to come back to life, he pleads with the sky. with anyone who might hear him, or whoever was trying to take you away from this world.

if it meant you’d start breathing again, he’d fly up to the clouds and catch lightning in a bottle. if it meant you’d open your eyes, he’d fix every last mistake he ever made. if it meant you’d love him again… well, he’d deal with the truth of that if it meant you’d simply live again.

he almost gives up, looking down at his own, wet gloved hands as he comes to terms with the fact that his attempts may be futile. you were injured in the crash, losing blood from cuts and bruises. on top of that, you had drowned, the cruel, murky depths of the sea taking you away.

he’s already covered in water, but a singular tear drop runs down his eye.

your hearts beating, fuelled purely by the love you’ve gotten to experience. you see two people- the man who brought you back to life, and the one that felt like the best way to die.

before you can discern who is who, your heart catches up with your lungs, taking a desperate gasp of air. you immediately turn to your side, ignoring the cuts on your body in order to turn over and cough out the water. its salty and stings your throat, your vision hazy and your body shivering.

“breathe.” a voice commands you, rubbing circles on your back. keigo sighs in relief, pulling you into his lap. you cling like the life buoy you would have needed just a couple of minutes ago.

you don’t even realizing you’re still crying, not until the blonde strokes your cheeks free from the tears. he tilts your head up so he can look at you.

“you were dead a minute ago.�� he says, his usual nonchalant behaviour replaced by a rare glimmer of worry. you were the only person that pulled those feelings out of him, anyway.

your throat sings of salt, body aching from the cold and the blood loss. “yeah, well… you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.” you choke out.

he almost laughs, opting to pull you into a tight hug. with as much strength, though theres not much, you embrace him back. yes, you’re still mad. yes, you’re still heartbroken. but he somehow made your tortured heart beat once more.

he wraps his coat around you, handing you off to the paramedics. he promises to meet you in the hospital after he’s done helping other survivors, sending you off with a tender kiss to your forehead. keigo looks back, seeing the accident that left you dead for a moment.

touya, from afar, is watching too.

the look on his face is something you can’t quite decipher. he’s mad as hell you sold him out, especially at the behest of hawks- but something dragged him to the scene of the accident. something in him had to know you’d be okay.

he watches as the ambulance takes you away, before turning away and leaving the scene.

tags 🐚

@whenanafallsinlove @satirediary @bbluefllame @crushmeeren (aka all the people that would probably choose touya’s life over a thousand peoples 😭 cuz me too)

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chasedbyatlantic · 10 months ago

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puppy love, joel miller

summary: IN WHICH — when joel is upset, you do anything and everything in your power to cheer him up. this means showing him your new guitar skills, while singing one of his favourite songs to him.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, implied relationship, gender!neutral reader, sub!joel, lovey dovey joel and reader, ellie being a little shit once again, swearing, literally all fluff because i can, brief mention of death/killing (very very brief! shows up like two times), bad descs of guitar playing since i haven't played in like 10 years LOL, lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.3k

a/n: my second fic!!!!! i sort of love this one?? also tysm for the love on my first! looking for moots too! hmu if you wanna <3 make sure to reblog, like, and comment on this plz and thank u! if u have any requests for a fic lmk (dms r open for it!) more to come soon xoxo

—

God only knew what time it was. You had an infuriating day at work, training all new people on how to successfully patrol Jackson's surrounding areas, and how to not- well, die. This was always your least favourite time of year, to say the least. All the "fresh meat" had been selected to be potential patrolers, and they had to go through extensive training to make sure they were one hundred percent qualified and committed to the role.

Both you and Joel were practically put into this role by Maria (Joel's sister-in-law), not by force, but more of a "you would be doing the entire Jackson community a whole favour if you did this" sort of thing - guilt, most would say. Maria had even tried to get Ellie to help train people, but Joel almost killed Maria by his glare when she brought it up to the two of you.

Even though you hated this role in the community, you think Joel liked it. He had a bit too much fun getting to put kids in check, and humble them big time. At least it was only for a few months, you had kept reminding yourself. The few months were from early June until late September, though - the hottest months of the year. The before dawn wake up calls, and after dusk ends would only last for another month, since it was sometime in the middle of August right now.

After getting home extremely late, around an hour or two ago, you had already taken a shower and changed into more comfortable clothes before you went and sat on your back porch. Even though you didn't want to be outside anymore than you had to right now, Ellie had one of her friends over and wanted privacy. You love the kid, so you gave her the privacy (not much privacy, only hanging out in the living room of your home).

You were able to tell Joel was finished with his shower when you heard high-pitched and muffled screams coming from inside the house behind you. Just as you went to turn your head around to see what exactly the commotion he was causing inside was, the familiar figure of Joel Miller left the glass door, with the door slamming shut behind him. "Everything alright in there, cowboy?" You hummed to him as the nickname rolled off your tongue, scooching over on the step you were seated on to give the man some room to sit.

"Fucking Christ," He started as he took a seat next to you, "they were paintin' their nails, or somethin'. Said I wasn't allowed anywhere near 'em in that room, or they'd be off with me." Joel had grunted once he was completely lowered on this step, his bones weren't as good as they used to he would say.

This earned a snort from you, "No way- Ellie's paintin' her nails? Your girl's really growin' up, Joel." You couldn't believe she was doing this, to be honest. Ellie had stated to both you and Joel that she was not girly whatsoever, and would rather turn into a clicker than wear a dress or do her makeup. After you had said this to Joel, he looked to be upset. He didn't want Ellie growing up, his girl growing up. "Joking, joking."

He took his eyes off of you, and moved them forward. "Nah, you're right," Joel had sighed, "she won't need me soon. Soon she'll-" He had trailed off, quiet now. Fuck- why did you bring this up, you had thought to yourself. You could only place your hand on Joel's thigh. "She'll always need you, Joel. Shit, she'd be death without ya'. Lighten up a bit baby, she ain't going anywhere."

Joel knew it was true, he was just having a really emotional moment right now, it was most likely from being up since five in the morning. "Dunno 'bout that." He had only muttered, placing his hand over yours. You tsked, putting some pressure on his thigh as you got up in an awkward fashion. "Where are ya'-"

"I have an idea, hold on." You had cut him off, making your way back inside. You were engulfed by the sounds of laughter as soon as you stepped foot through the patio door. You were silent about it, not wanting to bother Ellie or her friend. You had silently moved to the house's spare room, where the three of you put anything and everything. You had grabbed what you were looking for almost instantly (it had a distinct shape) and made your way back outside.

Joel turned his head once you had stepped outside again, his eyes moving down to what you had in hand, then gaining eye contact. "Is that my-" he couldn't even finish his sentence. You grinned as you pulled the lawn chair over, placing the case on the floor and unlatching the sides. You had picked up the piece of polished wood and string and placed the curved part on top of your knee.

"Okay so," You had started as Joel turned around to give you his full attention. He looked handsome like this- more than handsome, actually. The way the dull light from inside of your home highlighted his face almost perfectly- ugh, you couldn't get enough of it. "From all of the, sort of, free time I have had in the last few months, I decided to sort of, really badly, learn a few songs?" It came out more of a question than it did a statement, and Joel took notice of this with only a laugh in return.

"Anything ya' play'll be gorgeous, baby." Joel could only look at you in complete awe; if he didn't love you one hundred percent before, he sure as fuck did now. Instead of sitting down, Joel stood up and was now leaning against the wooden beam behind him. He towered over you, only inches away- this got you on even more of an edge.

"Okay, please don't kill me if I don't get the chords right- I don't think I read the notes properly." You awkwardly chuckle as you avoid eye contact with Joel at the current second. Joel knows a guitar from the inside-out, but even if you messed up, he would not care at all. You took the time to learn his favourite instrument, and this only put him in an ecstatic mood.

"Pick a number one through three." You told him as you move your left hand up the neck, and your right arm drooped over the body. "Three." He replied almost too fast, he was just so eager to hear you play.

You brought your fingers through the strings before you started, making sure it was in tune. You glance up towards Joel, "It's in tune, right?" You ask him. A chuckle escapes his lips as he nods, "Don't worry baby, it is."

You (unfortunately) tore your eyes apart from Joel's as you focus on both your left and right hands now. Multitasking was hard for you before this, so you struggled a bit to play. You inhale slowly, placing your fingers on the top three strings on the fingerboard. You strum from both left and right, meeting to the middle string as the first chord.

"And they called it puppy love," your voice was quiet and sounded more hoarse than relaxed, which you mentally slapped yourself for. Before hounding yourself about it even more, you had to focus on changing the chords another four times as you repeated the strumming rhythm.

"Oh, I guess they'll never know," There wasn't any moving, or talking, or breathing (from the sound of it) from Joel. He was just- mesmerized, mesmerized by what you had been doing with your fingers, with your voice, with everything. If the world hadn't gone to shit, you most definitely would've had a big breakout as an up-and-coming music star, he had thought to himself.

"How a young heart, how it really feels, and why I love him so," You had changed the lyrics, and Joel noticed - you changed "her" to "him". Honestly, Joel only noticed because it was you singing it (and he loved you deeply), and that whenever he would spend time with his grandfather when he was little, this song was played a million times. Had he ever told you about his love for this song, or was it just a coincidence?

"And they called it puppy love," You repeated yourself, emotion starting to seep through your voice. "Just because we're seventeen," If you weren't so lost in your train of thought, of remembering where to put your fingers for the next chord, and the correct strumming pattern, and the lyrics, you would've noticed Ellie and her friend silently sneak out onto the porch.

"Tell them all, it isn't fair. To take away my only dream," You had paused strumming for a single second, it sounded like a dramatic pause in Joel's eyes. You had just completely lost your breath from a combination of singing and nerves. After the (painfully long, you thought) second was over, you started once again.

"I cry each night, my tears for you. My tears are all in vain," The chord pattern you had going changed for the last time, and your strums started to sound quiet, your voice dying out while all of this happened. Joel took notice of this, standing up completely now (from leaning against the wooden beam behind). The two girls behind you were still so silent, almost just as mesmerized with you as Joel was.

"Oh, I'll hope and pray, that maybe someday," You inhale as your thumb starts to brush down from the highest string to the lowest string, "You'll be back in my arms once again." A loud exhale falls through your mouth, followed by the two girls bursting out with clapping and compliments. This does nothing short than scaring the absolute fuck out of you, causing the guitar to slip out of your grip.

Luckily, with Joel being completely focused on you, he had came to the rescue and snatched the guitar before it had fell on the ground. You shoot him an apologetic look before turning around to the two girls, he just looks at you with understanding eyes. "You guys almost made me drop the fuckin' thing- how long were you there for?" You question them, eyeing between the two. Their clapping hands were now silent and playing with their thumbs, almost nervous from you.

"Ya' know what, it doesn't matter. Inside- go, it's bedtime." You had scolded the two, as if you were their mother. Ellie's friend had opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Ellie gripping her hand and yanking her back inside. You start to turn back to face Joel, after snapping. "Fuck, we can never have a minute of fuckin' sile-".

He cut you off by smashing his lips into yours. He was acting as if though he was touch deprived, if he hadn't seen you for years. You two just move in sync for what feels like forever (not that you're complaining, though), before you pull away.

Before you have the chance to say anything, Joel brings you to your feet and sets the guitar down on your previous seat, embracing you in a tight hug. You can feel his rough facial hair on the exposed parts of your neck as he exhales, you definitely don't mind. "I needed that more than anythin', darlin'." He admits to you.

"Anythin' for my favourite person." You remind him, bringing your hand to the back of his head. It was true, you would do anything for this man. You would steal for him, kill for him, anything he wanted.

The sun was threatening to peak through the moonlit skies, you knew you two had to be up and about soon enough, but that didn't stop you. You were laying in bed together, tangled between each other's arms. The covers were kicked off your shared bed, and a small breeze cruising the room every so often from the open windows.

"I think it's true." You had broken the comfortable silence that filled the room. Joel didn't move from his position (half of his body on you), just hummed with his eyes staying shut. "What is, baby?"

"The song- fuck, I don't want to sound cheesy or nothin'." You admit, before continuing, "You just, ya' know, I love you's all." You send a small squeeze through Joel's hand, that vibrates his entire body. This results in him dropping your hand and lifting it to wrap around your chest. "Nothin' cheesy 'bout that." His voice was even more hoarse than when you had lost your fears of singing in front of someone, in front of Joel. You now went silent, just loving his embrace.

"Darlin'?" He now broke the silence after a minute or two, eyes still shut and not moving whatsoever. You gave a hum in response, just like he did earlier. "Ya' said to pick a number between three before ya' played earlier, were the other options real?" This was your favourite, vulnerable Joel.

"It was, and before you ask-" you pause, bringing your hand to the back of his head, just like earlier. You ran your fingers through his restless curls. "-I'll play the rest for ya'. Promise." Joel had obviously liked this answer, as he responded with a sloppy kiss to your collarbone.

You would learn every lyric in the world, every chord in the world, every strum in the world, just for Joel to be happy. You didn't want anything more in this world than for him to be happy. If he was happy, so were you.

puppy love, paul anka

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rippleclan · 2 months ago

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RippleClan: Moon 70, Part 2

Mitespark drugs Rattlepelt’s meal so she falls into a deep sleep.

[Image ID: Mitesparks speaks with Weevilkit, Anchovykit, Wolfkit, and Downstar.]

Anchovykit and his friends stayed in the quarantine den with Downstar and Honeybuzz the rest of the day while Waspdawn kept prying ears away from their conversation. There was something so adult about it all that even with Weevilkit’s terrifying description of what Rattlepelt could have done, Anchovykit still stood tall and tried to talk to his leader like a noble warrior. To his shock, Downstar and Honeybuzz didn’t talk down to him. They actually seemed to respect the kits! Maybe it was how close they were to apprenticeship, or maybe it was their powers. Whatever it was, Anchovykit liked it.

He did wish he could play a bigger role in the upcoming fight, though.

As dusk slipped away and night covered the camp, the kits pressed their ears against the walls of the shipwreck, listening to the conversations in the medicine den through layers of wood. They couldn’t hear much, but Anchovykit had a sharp picture in his mind; Rattlepelt, sitting in a nest with her bite wounds bandaged, Troutpool and Estherfern minding their business as the kits’ spy entered the den.

“Rattlepelt,” Mitespark called, voice clear through the shipwreck. “Asterblaze and I made dinner tonight. It’s just a simple soup, but I added a little salt to your bowl, since you’re hurt.”

“Hmm,” Rattlepelt huffed. “Thank you.” There was a long pause (most likely, Mitespark was setting down the bowl of soup for Rattlepelt). Eventually, Rattlepelt asked, “Did Waspdawn find out why those kits tried to kill me?”

“I think he’s still interviewing them,” Mitespark gulped. “Whatever reason they had, they’re still kits. I’m sure you can talk it through.”

“What I should do is treat them the same!” Rattlepelt suddenly yowled.

“Rattlepelt!” Troutpool snapped, suddenly reminding Anchovykit of her presence.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t say that,” Rattlepelt growled.

“Just get some rest,” Mitespark sighed. The medicine den grew quiet. Weevilkit was the first to turn around and greet Mitespark when she looped around the shipwreck. Downstar and Honeybuzz had been waiting to the side of the den, sharing tongues. They quickly stood at the young artisan’s approach.

“Did you drug the soup?” Weevilkit asked, hurrying up to Mitespark.

“I put the medicine in, like Honeybuzz asked,” Mitespark gulped, fur prickling. “Downstar, this doesn’t feel right. Why did we need to sedate Rattlepelt?”

“Because her recent behavior hasn’t been her own,” Downstar sighed with a sorry shake of her head. “You’ve done well, Mitespark. We just need to wait for Rattlepelt to fall asleep now.”

“Do you think my parents will still be mad at me after this?” Wolfkit asked, still listening through the shipwreck.

“Once we explain the situation,” Honeybuzz promised, “Mosspounce and Lemmy will understand. You were just defending the other kits.” Wolfkit nodded, although Honeybuzz’s assurances did not ease the tension tightening through her shoulders.

“How long will it take Rattlepelt to sleep?” Weevilkit groaned. “What if she acts out again?”

“I’ll go back to the medicine den and fetch you when she’s dreaming,” Honeybuzz said. He trotted out of the quarantine den, leaving the kits to wait. Weevilkit paced around Anchovykit and Wolfkit. Her soft glow, invisible to all but Anchovykit, reminded him of the moon, shifting positions around the sky, providing a gentle but stunning light.

“Wolfkit?” Weevilkit asked, still pacing. “Anchovykit? Do you two know what you want to train as?”

“We’re talking about this now?” Wolfkit gulped. She sat in a tight loaf. The stress building under her pelt made Anchovykit hurt just looking at her. He sat down beside Wolfkit, cocking his head to Weevilkit.

“Answer the question,” Weevilkit huffed, sitting with a dramatic thump.

“I’ll be a warrior,” Anchovykit declared. “I’ve known that forever! What else would I be?”

“Your sight would make you a good cleric,” Downstar pointed out from where she continued to lounge.

“That’s funny,” Anchovykit laughed.

“I was really impressed with Waspdawn today,” Wolfkit said, finding her voice through her fear, “even though he scared me. I would love to train with him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Wolfkit,” Downstar promised. “Weevilkit, are you asking because you aren’t sure?”

“The opposite,” Weevilkit huffed. She stopped pacing and gave her chest a lick. “I want to be a cleric.” Really? Weevilkit; wild, commanding Weevilkit, as a humble cleric?

Before Anchovykit could pry into his friend’s odd decision, Honeybuzz hurried back to the den, panting, “She’s asleep. Let’s do this quickly.”

“To your paws, kits,” Downstar huffed as Honeybuzz scurried back to the medicine den. Downstar trotted after her youngest cleric, with the three kits on her tail. Waspdawn joined them, leaving his guard post.

The soft fire under the cleric’s personal oven illuminated part of the medicine den. The clerics’ ointments and concoctions cast soft, but disorienting shadows onto one another. Troutpool and Estherfern watched in sheer confusion as the gaggle of cats stormed inside. Rattlepelt slept in a nest tucked to the side. She seemed to drown in the black ichor that forever oozed off her legs. Anchovykit knew there was a bandage wrapped around her shoulder, but the ichor smothered it. He ground his paws into the sand. Possessed or not, how dare she even think of attacking Waspdawn’s kits?

“Honeybuzz, what’s going on?” Troutpool asked as Estherfern carefully glared at the group.

“I think you should explain this to them outside the den,” Downstar muttered. Her dark gaze revealed her true intentions. Honeybuzz flicked his ears and looped around his fellow clerics. He herded them outside like a monster pushed a horse onwards.

“Whatever this is,” Estherfern said, eyes locking on Anchovykit, “good luck.” Did she know what was happening? Whatever the case, Anchovykit quickly looked away from the brown cleric. No time to worry about creepy clerics. It was time to save Rattlepelt.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Waspdawn asked as Anchovykit crept toward Rattlepelt.

“I should,” Anchovykit gulped. He mimicked the hunter’s crouch so often demonstrated in camp. Even now, in such tense of circumstances, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if his form was right, if the adults were impressed.

The black ichor covering Rattlepelt sloshed in Anchovykit’s presence. With how close he now was, he swore the spiritual ooze had a scent; something like mushrooms, or faded autumn leaves. Anchovykit braced his poor tongue for the awful taste ahead. He carefully bit into the ichor, Ripplefern’s guidance echoing in the background. Peel it off like a lid.

“I see something!” Wolfkit gasped as Anchovykit pulled. The taste made Anchovykit want to vomit, but he pushed on. He dug his paws in, straining his neck. The ooze stuck to Rattlepelt, slimy tendrils hooking around her as Anchovykit pulled more and more of it off. Even though he only grabbed the one leg, the ichor draining from the others seemed pulled to Anchovykit’s grasp like rain falling from the sky. Fat, sticky drops flew off Rattlepelt and onto the growing mass in Anchovykit’s jaws. It was getting too big for his mouth. How much ichor was on Rattlepelt?

With a loud, decisive groan, Anchovykit wrenched his head back and pulled the last tendrils of ichor off Rattlepelt’s body. He threw the huge, squirming mass away, bile stinging his throat. The bubbling, oozing ichor (which, from the horror in the eyes around him, everyone could now see) flew across the medicine den. It splattered at Downstar’s paws with a violent squish.

“That’s a Shardling?” Waspdawn muttered as Wolfkit sneered at the pile of ichor. Weevilkit hissed as a bubble formed on the surface of the ichor and popped.

“What do we do with it?” Wolfkit asked. Downstar had no time to answer; Weevilkit suddenly jumped with a loud yowl, making everyone’s fur spike. She stared at the ichor, seeing something that Anchovykit could not… not for a few seconds, at least.

“Get out!” Weevilkit screeched, running for the exit. “Get out right now!” Anchovykit and Wolfkit immediately raced out of the medicine den, looping around the ichor. Waspdawn and Downstar scrambled back just in time. The second Downstar moved, the ichor lunged at where she had been standing, impossibly sharp fangs suddenly launching from the mess like a great beast of the sea breaching the waves.

“Stay behind me!” Downstar yelped. She skidded across the sand and shoved the kits to her back. The ichor lunged and stumbled like a drowned frog, flopping out of the medicine den. The clerics stood to the side of the den and gawked at the sight. Elmsprout, who had been dutifully on guard duty outside, rushed back into camp.

“What is that?” she yowled as the ichor bubbled and gurgled. A solid form crawled out of the ichor like a cat crawled over a cliff’s edge to save themselves from a long fall. Each feature was sharp, pointed like fangs but thick like shadows over mud. Yellow eyes, the same eyes Anchovykit had seen for the last season in Rattlepelt’s glare, burst to life along the Shardling’s angular face. It mimicked long fur with slick tendrils of ichor and darkness. Its bile stained the sand with fat, sloppy drops. Anchovykit tried to stop his tail from slinking between his legs, from cowering behind Downstar, but he could not stop himself. The Shardling’s wicked stare settled on the nursery.

“Weeeeeeeeeeeeedfoooooooooooooot!” the Shardling screeched. Its cry was claws against bark, crumbling stones and screeching bats. Before anyone could stop it, the Shardling raced into the nursery.

[Image ID: Weevilkit asks Anchovykit and Wolfkit, “Does this make us… heroes?”]

Yowling instantly enveloped the nursery. Ravenkit and Silverkit scrambled out of the den with their mother at their heels. Waspdawn, Elmsprout, and Downstar charged into the chaos. There was no choice in the matter; Anchovykit, Weevilkit, and Wolfkit followed, despite how hard their hearts pounded.

The nursery was a thunderstorm over a raging sea. Anchovykit’s friends and littermates scrambled over each other as the Shardling ran and tripped through the nursery. The queens scrambled from their sleep, still trying to grasp what stood before them. The Shardling sneered at Weedfoot, who sat in the far back of the den. Her two tiny kits, one red, one black, mewed loudly, disturbed but unaware of the danger that lurked nearby.

“You can do it, Harvest!” Weevilkit yowled. A few seconds later, Anchovykit’s mother fulfilled Weevilkit’s prophecy. She pounced on the Shardling, screeching louder than anything Anchovykit had heard before.

“Everyone, out!” Downstar ordered. She ushered Clammask and her kits around the fight, navigating through what little room remained in the den.

“I’ll help, Mom!” someone in the horde of kits yowled. As Yarrowkit, Billowkit, and Currentkit watched as their mother spun around the den, claws locked into the monster, Robinkit charged into the fight.

“Get back!” Waspdawn roared. He shoved into the nursery, but tripped over Boughkit and Brightkit, laying curled and terrified near the exit. His large body blocked most of the scene.

“Robinkit, run!” Harvest cried. The Shardling slammed her jaw into the rock wall. Still, even with a splatter of blood staining the wall, Harvest launched back into the fight. Anchovykit could hear his brother somewhere in the mix, but had no idea what was happening to him.

“We’re smaller,” Weevilkit said, batting at Downstar’s shoulder to catch her eye. “We can get through this! We can grab the other kits!”

“You’re not apprentices yet!” Downstar snapped. At that moment, Anchovykit decided he’d take a hundred punishments from Downstar if it meant no one else got hurt.

Anchovykit dove under Waspdawn’s legs and snatched Brightkit by the leg. No time to be gentle, his denmate had to leave. He dragged Brightkit out of the den and into Weevilkit. Wolfkit lunged through the gap formed in the kit’s absence and slipped into the den.

Waspdawn grabbed Boughkit and set her beside her brother. As he moved, Anchovykit raced inside. Waspdawn ran for his kits, who screamed in their nest. Wolfkit ran face-first into Thunderkit; Foamkit and Wolverinekit ran about wildly, searching for a way around the battle rolling through the den.

“Follow me!” Wolfkit yowled. She spun back and ran out the way she came. Thunderkit, Foamkit, and Wolverinekit scrambled after their savior. Weevilkit lunged in just as Wolverinekit ran out to her littermates.

“Leave, mousebrains!” Weevilkit yowled at Anchovykit’s siblings. Billowkit and Yarrowkit hissed and shook, unable to look away the Shardling that tore its claws through Harvest’s pelt. But where was Currentkit? Anchovykit could hear his sappy little brother crying somewhere on the other side of the fight.

But it was only when Harvest kicked the Shardling aside that Anchovykit realized he no longer heard Robinkit.

Currentkit wailed over Robinkit’s body. His red face was redder than ever before, dyed with his own blood. A frozen, panicked gaze clung sightlessly to Anchovykit. Ichor dripped from Robinkit’s claws. Currentkit shook Robinkit, choking on his own cries. Anchovykit nearly vomited from the overwhelming stench of rot and mushrooms in the den.

Harvest and the Shardling rolled back, concealing Anchovykit’s dead brother once more. Anchovykit instinctively pressed closer to Yarrowkit and Billowkit, the shock of the scene before him yet to pierce into his heart as reality. Wolfkit and Weevilkit had found their way to Weedfoot, still weak from her kitting only a quarter moon ago. Weevilkit helped Weedfoot to her paws as the Shardling gorged massive lines down Harvest’s shoulder. Anchovykit yowled as his mother cried out.

“Wolfkit, the stare!” Weevilkit screamed, throwing herself over Lightningkit and Cobaltkit. “Do the stare!”

“There’s too much happening!” Wolfkit whined.

“Just do it!” Weevilkit yowled. Wolfkit dug her paws in. She squeezed her eyes tight, panting hard. Waspdawn pulled Harvest aside and ducked as Downstar flew into the nursery. The tortoiseshell leader slammed the Shardling down. Waspdawn pinned its flank, but even the might of two strong cats would not hold it for long. The Shardling bubbled and squirmed, as slippery as a fish, threatening to lift the pair off the ground.

“Wolfkit!” Weevilkit cried. Wolfkit opened her eyes. The fear that had plagued the kit all day was gone. Instead, when Anchovykit looked in Wolfkit’s eyes, he saw burning grass, a raging wildfire focused entirely on the Shardling.

The Shardling stopped moving. It froze with one paw twisted toward Downstar, ready to claw her eyes out. Its squirming, sticky pelt stilled. The hate in its yellow eyes no longer burned, but stabbed; consistent, unmoving, but still powerful. Downstar and Waspdawn panted hard, catching their breath, shaking. Harvest’s surviving kits could not look away from the monster that killed their brother. That was, not until Downstar chomped down on the Shardling’s neck.

The Shardling’s form shivered with the impact of Downstar’s fangs. Waspdawn dug into its slimy torso. Wolfkit broke her stare, squirming at the sight. Not that it mattered anymore. As Downstar tightened her grip, the Shardling began to dissolve. Its form sunk underneath Downstar and Waspdawn. The ichor oozed into the leather and sand lining the nursery. Soon, nothing remained of the horror but sticky, reeking piles of gunk. A huge crowd stood outside, yowling and trying to figure out what was unfolding inside.

“Mom,” Yarrowkit gasped.

Anchovykit, Billowkit, Currentkit, and Yarrowkit scrambled across the den. Their paws stuck to the stained leather. Harvest laid in Waspdawn’s nest, blood oozing from her mouth. Her jaw laid broken, claw wounds staining her white markings. She breathed hard, but her green eyes remained clear, wide and shaking.

“Mom,” Currentkit sobbed as Waspdawn helped Weedfoot, Weevilkit, and Wolfkit carry the newborns outside. “Mom, Robin’s…”

“I’m sorry,” Anchovykit gulped. He pressed his paws into the large wound on Harvest’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mom. We were getting the Shardling out of Rattlepelt, I don’t know why it wanted Weedfoot.”

“What are you talking about?” Billowkit cried, sneering at his brother.

“Troutpool!” Weevilkit yowled outside. “Honeybuzz!” Harvest groaned, broken jaw twitching. Anchovykit leaned close. It was hard to understand what his mother said, but each word stunned regardless.

“You were brave,” Harvest said. “Keep being brave for me.”

“Mom—” Anchovykit whined. Suddenly, Honeybuzz’s white paw pulled him back. He and Troutpool nudged the kits back, surrounding Harvest with baskets of medicine. Honeybuzz put his ear to Harvest’s mouth. When he didn’t stand up, Anchovykit knew his mother was gone.

Anchovykit ran outside, shoving through his Clan. Downstar herded Weevilkit and Wolfkit into her den. Anchovykit ran blind after them, cats shoving against him. Downstar looped her tail around Anchovykit as soon as he entered her den, gently nudging him toward her nest in the large, old, wooden box.

“The three of you, take a moment,” Downstar huffed. “I’m going to stand outside and answer everyone’s questions. You tell me when you want to see anyone. I promise, you all did well, you aren’t in trouble. I’ll explain everything to the Clan. Everything will be alright.” Downstar crept backward out of the den as RippleClan called her name, trying to figure out how exactly two of their Clanmates ended up dead, what just stormed through the nursery.

“Does this make us…” Weevilkit muttered, “heroes?”

“Anchovy,” Wolfkit whined, bunting Anchovykit’s side, “I’m so sorry. I should have frozen the Shardling sooner.”

Downstar’s den glowed. As the heavy weight of loss sank deeper and deeper in Anchovykit’s lungs, soft light danced around the walls of the den. It was so much like the glow that covered Weevilkit and Wolfkit, but purer. Brighter. Calmer. It enveloped the leader’s den, spreading like a wave. Anchovykit’s weight stuck in his throat at the sight. Weevilkit didn’t see it, he was sure of that; the darkness of the night’s events still clouded her gaze. But it was like all of Silverpelt came down to say, “We know tonight was hard. We’re sorry we took them.” No, that wasn’t what they said. “We’re sorry we left.”

But with how Anchovykit saw the world, they never really would leave, would they?

(Anchovykit: 5, male, kit, charming, curious about StarClan)

(Mitespark: 12, female, artisan, charismatic, good mediator)

(Rattlepelt: 53, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)

(Troutpool: 31, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Weevilkit: 5, female, kit, bullying, curious about StarClan)

(Downstar: 129, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Wolfkit: 5, female, kit, polite, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Honeybuzz: 18, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Estherfern: 104, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Waspdawn: 36, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Elmsprout: 37, female, caretaker, charismatic, helpful insight)

(Harvest: 58, female, queen, nervous, good fighter)

(Robinkit: 5, male, kit, unruly, avid play-fighter)

(Currentkit: 5, male, kit, polite, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas)

(Yarrowkit: 5, female, kit, noisy, stares at fire)

(Billowkit: 5, male, kit, bossy, active imagination)

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nikethestatue · 2 months ago

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Hello!

Wanted to get your thoughts on Elain not fitting into Night Court because per Cassian she is drowned out by “Night Court Black”? This also came up when Elain did not wear Illyrian leathers. One of the podcasts that I listen to (though mind you are very much in love with the red haired characters of the books, though they try to keep is unbiased) mentioned this. To me this has always been a bit of a faulty argument, especially about the Illyrian leathers because of course she would not want to wear that. Nesta was the same way. Cassian thinking that was an interesting way to word it—Mor nor Amgen regularly wear black yet he points this specifically out about Night Court. People tend to think well that must be it..Elain belongs in Day or Spring. Personally, I think SJM is perhaps pointing her to a different court all together—>Dusk perhaps???? Or it means absolutely nothing and Cassian is just oblivious to everyone except Nesta, despite the podcasters constantly talking about his emotional intelligence.

The 'black dress' comment has been addressed many times, and I can go back and kind of regurgitate the same info:

it's not the Night Court, it's specifically Hewn City

the plain black dress was there for a reason. To take all attention from her, and place it all on Nesta.

Elain volunteered HERSELF to go to Hewn City and play this role. She stated that she was 'part of this court' and would do what's necessary.

This is all canon and all in the book. So like I said, I am not going to regurgitate this info because the rebuttal of their arguments is already in there.

However, the Illyrian leathers thing is interesting.

Feyre stated that Elain possessed a 'different kind of strength' and SJM, in one of her interviews, said the same. Elain's strength, her powers are not connected to her abilities as a fighter. That's why she won't become a warrior. She is not a Blade. She is a loaf of bread. She is a flower. She is a rose in a mud field. She is a slice of cake. She is home. She is life. She is love. Her strength is that she does what is necessary, even if it's violent and cruel, and then she walks away. She doesn't dwell on it and doesn't take pride in causing pain.

However, unlike all of them, ELain was the only one who didn't need Illyrian leathers to deliver the most devastating blow of all--she stabbed the king. She didn't need any physical power to make a huge difference in the war--first by Seeing Vassa, who came in and destroyed the navy, and then by finding the Suriel with her Seer's Eyes, and through the Suriel, Amren learned how to shed her 'skin' and how to come to full power, thus developing a devastating blow to Hybern.

Elain has never been and hopefully will not be about fighting, slicing and dicing. Elain fully lives into the Nephelle philosophy. The weakest, the most 'insignificant' person can make the most difference. Nephelle with her too small wings, with her lack of physical powers also made a tremendous amount of difference in the previous War.

Cassian, the great warrior, the general, all clad in Illyrian leathers was no match for the King of Hybern. No matter his training, his physicality, his strength, he still fell, and was ready to die. But then Elain stepped out of the shadow and rammed Truth Teller through the King's throat.

That's her power. That's her strength. She does what needs to be done and then she returns to her quiet life, and continues to create.

That's the significance of Elain Archeron.

#elain archeron #elain #pro elain

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mamasuellen-blog · 10 months ago

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Aziraphale and Crowley - Nightingale Analogy

After the second season, I started thinking of them both as if they were birds, specifically the Nightingale. Here's an analogy with scenes from Good Omens.

Symbolic Meaning of the Nightingale

The Nightingale is a charming bird, revered especially by artists, such as poets and writers who have been inspired by them and used them as symbols in their works throughout history and time. They are considered as a symbol of love and fidelity. This bird has inspired plays, songs, sonnets, folklore, poetry, stories, legend... It has cultural and mythological importance in various parts of the world. He is mentioned in several books that tell romantic, melancholic and tragic stories. Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman chose this particular bird to be part of the iconic story of Good Omens.

Some examples of stories about our two Nightingales over time.

When they met, they sang a millimetrically perfect melody on the same frequency, a song that only they could understand. A tune full of feelings, sensations and connections between two creatures. It brought harmony and meaning for them to stay together.

Color Detail

The Nightingale's plumage predominates in discreet brown and brown tones, with slight RED shades. Your chest is more GRAY in tone, with RED or WHITE tones.

The Power of The Voice

This bird plays an important role in the ecology of the region in which it lives. The sound produced by the Nightingale can help regulate the population of insects and other animals that are part of the food chain. Crowley and Aziraphale are guardians of the land and together they played an important role in keeping it safe. Maintaining balance is essential.

They are Territorial

They are very territorial and become even more so during mating season. They respond more aggressively to others who enter their territory, as they want to protect their love nest.

The Musical Richness of Nightingale’s Song

This bird's musical repertoire includes 260 sequences. His song has a double function: Seduction and defense of the territory. The Nightingale's serenade begins at dusk, continues through the night, and lasts through the early hours of the morning until dawn. It is possible that he sings during the day, even though this behavior is not that common. The most physically vigorous birds are also those with the greatest musical repertoire. Some sequences are sung just for your reciprocated love :

While other sequences only serve to impose yourself against other rivals :

When a Nightingale hears its partner singing, it becomes very active, attracted by the unique and special sensitivity of this melody :

Crowley moves, fascinated by Aziraphale's singing.

The most impressive thing about this bird is its musical repertoire. The Nightingale is capable of singing for hours without repeating the same sequence once.

Crowley and Aziraphale know several languages. Aziraphale *sings* Nightingale in French.

The Nightingale's song reveals a remarkable delicacy and great power. In its vocal production, cheerful and lively sounds predominate, combined with a strong whistle, a strong whistle to attract.

Crowley makes a loud whistle to attract Aziraphale's attention.

Serenade of Love

After a lot of harmonious song between a Nightingale couple, it's time for the mating ritual and one of them always has the task of building the love nest. In the case of our Nightingales, romantic gestures to develop the relationship always happen.

The construction of the love nest is done with great care and care.

This ritual takes place at night and consists of beautiful love melodies, like the music that plays at the ball. While one Nightingale makes a special vocalization for the occasion, the other feels attraction and moves a lot (dances) and vice versa. Aziraphale chose Crowley and Crowley chose Aziraphale. The two have always been each other's ideal match.

The ball dance is the ritual of these Nightingales.

Predators

Although Nightingales are discreet, their song always reveals where they live, which is dangerous, as it attracts predators who want to capture them.

When frightened, the Nightingale uses its song to communicate sensations and threats, warning other Nightingales of danger. Our two Nightingales are threatened. Nightingale Aziraphale needs to alert his companion of this ambush.

Nightingales are capable of emitting very complex melodies, so complex that they are still of interest to ornithologists in studies. The mixture of different songs caused communication between Nightingale Aziraphale and Nightingale Crowley to become disconnected. The warning song gives way to the melodious and sad song.

The Nightingale Aziraphale tried to warn of danger.

Nightingale Crowley also tried to warn of danger.

After singing intensely to Nightingale Aziraphale, Nightingale Crowley's voice becomes weak and the song that follows is filled with suffering. In his last hope, he gives one last trill. He tried to protect their territory, but was unsuccessful.

The Last Trill of the Nightingale Crowley.

In the end, without strength, Nightingale Aziraphale's voice tried one last song. He wished the fairest of all for Nightingale Crowley, but he didn't get it. Pain hit him in the chest, closing his throat.

In the series, the band of Nightingales was already in the process of migrating, moving forward in search of warmer areas. In the posters for the second season, you can see them leaving.

The Nightingale flock heads off to migrate. The Nightingale Aziraphale also goes to heaven, but a place that is not his home.

I'm aware of what Neil Gaiman mentioned about Rouxninol's singing on Tumblr, but I chose to ignore what he said. Seriously, that's clearly a bird's chirp. And thank you to the person who managed to hear a bird singing in the scene and informed the fandom of this information. Whatever it was, it was a bird call. Yes, I may be crazy for believing this, but I'm not the only one, other people also believe it's a bird's song.

The Nightingale, who had sung in the book and at the end of the first season, for me, who is writing this analogy, also reappears in the second season, even if in a more discreet way, with an almost imperceptible and low voice. What's really impressive is that we can hear him, when the camera focuses on Aziraphale's face, who is holding back crying with his mouth slightly open, trying to emit something, or was it the Nightingale Aziraphale who made this song?

The predator achieved its goal. He separated and silenced the birdsong.

Nightingale Aziraphale was captured and transported to heaven in a box. A sky without any freedom, a totally inhospitable place, outside of its natural habitat

Meanwhile, Nightingale Crowley, at the slightest sign of distress, quickly flew in search of shelter to protect himself from the pain.

One of the peculiarities of Nightingales is that they are loyal birds and do not adapt well when isolated from their companions.

They were the last nightingales to leave and unfortunately painfully separated, which makes part of this romantic story in Anguish. And this fits the meaning and symbolism of the Nightingale bird for writers.

In season 3:

“They’re not talking to each other.” = They are not singing.

Although they are separated, the singing is still present. A single song and many memories. “A Ninghtgale Sang in Berkeley Square” has a heart-like vibration within them. This music resonates in them, like a charged wave of energy that surrounds them and tunes them to each other, a vibration so powerful that it connects them to "us".

I am faithful to the theory that Aziraphale sent the song to Bentley for Crowley to listen to, as he also remembers and will never forget the memorable moments between them.

"A nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" is the song they can understand, the melody made sublime.

There is nothing that lasts forever, not even the pain of separation. The Nightingale bird's migration is temporary and on this journey they always return. The gang is always faithful to its place of origin.

In this way, in a flock, the nightingales Crowley and Aziraphale will meet and begin the freedom they so desire. The power of their song will be ineffable, allowing them together to destroy cages, traps and predators. Bringing harmony to their world.

In the end, Nightingale Crowley and Nightingale Aziraohale will flap their wings and fly together in synchronization, dancing in new airs, until they land on an apple tree branch, which is in a beautiful garden and there they will build a new nest. They will sing in a divine way, while exchanging vows of love, in a beautiful sunset.

Meanwhile, the Nightingale flock will be noisy for them on the South Downs.

I had a lot of fun writing this analogy and I hope you like it too. English is not my mother tongue, sorry for any spelling mistakes. Thank you if you made it this far. :)

#good omens #goodomensseason2 #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #goodomensseason3 #south downs #nightingale

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zizz-asdf-re-r-o-u · 6 months ago

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M/s relationships- real life vs Garu/Karu & Eiden

Alright buckle up fellow 18+ adults, I have a couple other meta and analysis-thingies up my sleeves but wanted to write about this first.

Disclaimer: I have not watched or read every event, etc etc the usual, if I have lore & information wrong, please lemme know. Also a good chunk of this is speaking of my personal BDSM experience and there is no One Twue Way so it is entirely possible this will differ from your BDSM experience.

It is natural that in Nu Carnival, a harem game, some ships will be deemed as more popular or more romantic. And some ships will be viewed as less. In some social circles, Garu/Karu/Eiden is often viewed as one of the "less romantic" relationships. I want to question this status quo though, due to my personal experience in the BDSM community.

This will be broken down in a couple things: my qualifications, how M/s works in my personal experience, a quick tangent about petplay in my personal experience, and what is going on with Garu/Karu/Eiden.

Qualifications:

I have been in my local kink community for a long time. I graduated from a leather education program, earned my boots & belt, participated in a BDSM mentorship program, taught a class, performed at multiple venues, and was in multiple porn shoots. So I think i have some experience. I'm not an expert in anything, but I do think I'm in intermediate or advanced level for some kinks that I specialize in. While I am not in a "romantic" relationship, I am in a kink family with my leather education group and most of us have all played with each other.

Most of what I will be talking about, though, is from personal experience of my own play and my friends/play partners, rather than what you'll find on wikipedia. So it is entirely possible, that my analysis will not match your kink experience or the kink experience of an instructor you watched online. It certainly won't match BL or fanfics. And that is ok! There is no One Twue Way when it comes to BDSM!

One last disclaimer: I am allosexual aromantic, so sometimes I really can't grasp the concept of romance so maybe I'm misunderstanding some things.

So about this M/s relationship thing:

On Fetlife and other online communities, there's a LOT of relationships styles and roles. Like a lot a lot a lot. It goes signficantly beyond "top, bottom, switch". On Fetlife/collarme/etc, though, there are certain "perceived" relationship commitment levels. If you have ever heard of "24/7 M/s relationship". That is what I'm talking about. Online and in most western erotica, Master/slave relationships are kind of viewed as the holy grail, ultimate, most dedicated BDSM relationship you have because a slave is offering their entire being and self to their Master. It goes far and beyond romance and marriage. It's viewed as super extra soul life partner relationship.

In real life, I have done M/s roleplay scenes and I do know many friends who are in actual M/s relationships. I'll be honest, of the people I know in real life, it never goes to that deep of a level for daily life and I don't know anyone who is in an actual 24/7 M/s relationship. Many slaves do wear collars as a sign of their commitment though. There are also many pro femdom "M/s" relationships, where a pro femdom will have a BUNCH of slaves serving them and their household. And sometimes relationships will overlap at the same time! You can be a slave and a puppy to 1 partner at the same time, while also being a dom or a master to someone else! Or to the same person if you're both switches!

And lastly, I also know many people who have broken off M/s relationships, so they are not as "life partner" permanent as you see them in media.

Now what does this have to do with Garu/Karu/Eiden?

Well, Garu calls Eiden Master and Karu calls Eiden slave. In Forgotten Fruit, specifically, Garu asks Eiden out a second time to be his commander, his Master. In Desert of Dusk, at one point Eiden also tells Garu that some people won't understand the type of relationship they have, which indicates its not a normal "boyfriends" relationship. Oh and this whole time, Karu has been attempting to treat Eiden as his slave, although that is clearly a comedic thing, rather than an actual M/s relationship.

And many Nu Carnival players view Garu/Karu/Eiden as less romantic. But as you can see from my personal experience, M/s relationships are viewed as The Ultimate BDSM Romantic Relationship. Can you see the disconnect there now? I would like to bring this perspective into the conversation about relationships in NU Carnival because I haven't seen this brought up yet.

I'm not saying that Garu/Karu/Eiden is More RomanticTM because they have a M/s relationship. I'm just saying that if you look at their relationship with a difference perspective, it can be perceived as just as RomanticTM as the others, or more.

And what about petplay?

In real life, petplay involves the partners getting into their preferred animal headspace and have a handler/owner. I have no idea if there's any expert research about this, but I do personally know several friends that are in a M/s relationships, but are also pet players in the same relationship. I have also done petplay scenes as both a handler and a cat.

When I personally see Eiden/Garu, they act more like a petplay relationship to me, than a M/s relationship. Garu acts like a puppy, Eiden acts like his owner, head pats, playing fetch, dog toys, rewards for good behavior, Garu literally looks like a puppy player, etc. Eiden as a handler/owner doesn't control Garu the way a Master would "command" a slave and while Garu definitely helps Eiden a lot, he doesn't "serve" Eiden the way a slave would. In fact, Eiden has actually stated he would be uncomfortable with Garu mindlessly obeying him (just rewatch chapter 7 or even Desert of Dusk). (Note that it gets real complex in M/s dynamics- a slave offering service is not mindlessly obeying). And I don't know what Eiden/Karu would be, but whatever it is, its kinda dysfunctional and doesn't fit into any clean boxes.

Even if the average vanilla player doesn't connect Garu/Karu/Eiden with petplay, I think those aspects of a petplay relationship is why people perceive them as "less romantic". Petplay often isn't perceived as a ~holy grail ultimate romantic BDSM relationship~ the same way M/s is. It's often viewed as just a kinky relationship/scene. Even though in my real life, I've seen the overlap. I'm also adding this again, to make the conversation even more complicated and nuanced.

In summary, Garu/Eiden and Karu/Eiden label themselves as a M/s relationship. In real life BDSM, M/s relationships are perceived as really freakin' committed romanticTM. BUT I can also see Garu/Eiden being perceived as a petplay couple, which real life people don't see as RomanticTM. And that is probably why it carries into the fandom when they don't perceive Garu/Karu/Eiden as romantic as the others.

And this whole conversation also isn't helpful, because goddammit this is a beautiful harem game and none of the guys are competing for Eiden's attention and in real life I know polycules that can get in 10+ partners ok! I have personally played with partners in said polycules!

And then Karu/Eiden is just complicated.

So I just wanted to give my 2 cents. Thoughts?

#personal #nu carnival #garu #karu #eiden #nu carnival analysis #nu carnival meta #analysis #meta

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jujumin-translates · 25 days ago

Text

[A3!] Event | Devil Maid’s Holiday | Episode 9

Izumi: Hmm… A little more to the right…

Izumi: …Alright, just like that.

Sakuya: Yeah, I think that seems pretty good! Thank you for everything, Director.

Izumi: You don’t have to thank me. This is nothing.

Izumi: (I was a little worried when the client asked if we could do this over the internet, but…)

Izumi: (Thank goodness we had Itaru-san, Chikage-san, and Kazunari-kun to teach us everything we needed to know…!)

Taichi: Director-sensei, we’ve all finished changing and getting our makeup done!

Izumi: Aww…! Everything suits you perfectly, guys!

Izumi: (Wow, they all look even cuter than I thought they would…!)

Citron: We are sooo very cute! This will surely make the client fall in love with us!

Yuki: Watch your legs! You’ve got a lot of them showing, so be careful with the way you walk.

Azami: …Thank God mine’s long.

Homare: Just because your legs aren’t showing doesn’t mean you should be careless. Clothes like these require you to have more etiquette.

Muku: W-What am I going to do? I’m getting so nervous. Will everything really be okay…? What if I get so focused on how I’m walking that I skip one of my lines, or…!

Taichi: You don’t gotta worry, Mucchan! If that happens, we’ll have your back!

Sakuya: …

Yuki: What? Are you nervous too?

Sakuya: N-No. I’m just… happy.

Sakuya: When I heard we were gonna be wearing maid uniforms and saw your really cute rough drafts, I was a little bit worried if things were gonna be okay or not.

Sakuya: I’ve played female roles before, and obviously I wasn’t worried about your costumes, but…

Sakuya: Originally, the client said they wanted women to do this.

Sakuya: What if they wanted us to wear the costumes against our will, or what would we do if they don’t approve…

Sakuya: But I’m not worried about that anymore. When I stood in front of the mirror after having my costume and makeup on, I really felt like we could do this.

Sakuya: I can’t make costumes, or write scripts, or even really direct, but… Because of that, I want to put the thoughts and feelings of the people who can do those things into performances too.

Yuki: …Then we’ll definitely snag this deal.

Sakuya: Yeah, let’s do our best!

Muku: Sakuya-kun! Director-san has one last thing she wants to check…

Sakuya: Ah, I’ll go to her right now!

Yuki: …

Azami: …That’s Sakuya-san for you.

Azami: He’s told me that same thing before too.

Yuki: That’s because he really can’t help but meddle.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: …Sorry for the wait, guys! We can get going now.

Homare: Well then, let us begin then, shall we?

Yuki: Alright, let’s show them just how cute we can be.

Troupe Members: Yeah!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Cast

Sakuya - Tio

Citron - Eliza

Yuki - Lilu

Muku - Lala

Taichi - Cherie

Azami - Ame

Homare - Celine

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (Deep in the forest in the dusk, the castle of the devil king stands quietly towering over the surroundings beyond the thick fog. There, many devil maids serve the devil king.)

Cherie: “After like, FOREVER, it’s finally almost time for Halloween. Ah~ I’m SO excited!”

Lala: “We get a full day off once a year on Halloween night. Hehe, I can’t wait either!”

Cherie: “Hey, so like, what are you planning on doing for Halloween, Lala?”

Lala: “Obviously, I reeaally want to go see an idol concert. I haven’t gotten my ticket yet, though, so I’ve got to make sure to do that.”

Lilu: “It seems like basically all of the idols you follow end up retiring due to controversy for some reason, though, Lala.”

Lala: “Ugh, Lilu! That would never happen to the girls I’m following now!”

Cherie: “Things always go up in flames like that because you’re a devil supporting… Never mind, it’s nothing.”

Cherie: “What about the rest of you? What are you guys thinking of doing?”

Tio: “I don’t really have any plans, so I guess I’ll just clean around the castle or something…”

Lilu: “I’d really like to go shopping. But it’s just so crowded no matter where you go.”

Ame: “I don’t really have anything in mind either. Hm, maybe I’ll just sleep for the whole day.”

Ame: “Ah, or maybe I’ll go down to the human world and mess with some humans.”

Cherie: “Aha, I mean, doing stuff like that IS only possible every once in a while, isn’t it?”

Celine: “What are you all talking about?”

Ame: “Ueh, Head Maid! Were you listening?”

Celine: “Regardless of how much time you’re getting off, that doesn’t mean you get to cut loose.”

Tio: “Exactly!”

Celine: “Tio, you are your own problem.”

Celine: “Recently, the devil world has been reforming the way we work, therefore, you’re not allowed to work overtime or on holidays, yet when it comes to you, you really only know how to work nonstop…”

Tio: “B-But that’s because this is my hobby.”

Celine: “Haah, that wasn’t meant to be a compliment. You have to be sure to get proper rest too.”

Celine: “Very well. If I catch you working on your next day off, I’ll have no choice but to put a spell on you to force you to sleep.”

Cherie: “Wait, Head Maid, you can’t be serious!”

Ame: “Heheh, maybe if the spell is too strong, you’ll end up being put to sleep forever.”

Tio: “Hmm… Well, whatever…”

Lala: “What are you saying, Tio!?”

Celine: “Haah, you’ll really just do whatever you’re ordered to, won’t you… Unbelievable. Anyway, rest when you have time off. Understood?”

Tio: “Fiiine, understood.”

Izumi: (Later, while cleaning up, Tio enters a room in the castle and finds Lilu sewing a maid uniform.)

Tio: “Huh, Lilu? And Eliza-sama! What’s with that dress…?”

Eliza: “Oh, well if it isn’t Tio. Fufu, what do you think? It suits me, doesn’t it?”

Lilu: “Eliza-sama wanted an outfit that’s similar to one mimicking a maid’s, so I made it especially for her.”

Tio: “Wait, but Eliza-sama is the daughter of the devil king…”

Eliza: “It’s fine. I’ve always wanted to try one on.”

Eliza: “I’ve always been envious of the way that everyone seemed so happy and lively while working, and these uniforms are just so cute!”

Eliza: “And Lala once told me secretly that human idols also wear these kinds of clothes.”

Lilu: “...Idols, huh?”

Lilu: “Actually, I wanted to be an idol.”

Tio: “Wait, an idol?”

Lilu: “After listening to Lala talk, I wanted to actually be an idol, not just someone supporting them.”

Eliza: “How wonderful!! Perfect, let’s do that then!”

Lilu: “What!?”

Eliza: “You have to do the things you want to do! Tio, you and the other maids are invited too! Let’s all become idols together!”

Eliza: “Right, how about we do it this Halloween? You all have off then, right?”

Tio: “I-I’m okay! I don’t think I’d be a good fit for it anyway…”

Eliza: “What are you talking about? Being an idol is a type of job, you know. And because it’s a job, it should be perfect for someone who loves working like you, right, Tio?”

Tio: “...! A type of job…”

Tio: “Oh, okay then! If that’s true, then yeah, it is perfect for me!”

Lilu: “Everyone becoming idols… Yeah, I want to do that!”

Eliza: “Fufu, then it’s decided!”

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

#a3!#a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #citron #yuki rurikawa #muku sakisaka #taichi nanao #azami izumida #homare arisugawa #// there’s something wrong with tio and i absolutely love her for that

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i-never-forgot · 6 months ago

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Ribbons probably has a thing where she bites on her Dusknoir’s finger and plays tug-o-war with it. So I was wondering if Dusk would maybe allow that sort of thing if she tried it on him? (Complimenting her tenacity? Maybe harmlessly flicking her away like the little stinker she is?)

And another thing I’ve been thinking about but AIMILIOS WOULD THINK LU IS SO GOD DAMN COOL??? Running the entire Wigglytuff guild while also not letting his blindness stop him??? That Riolu is staring at him with freaking stars in his eyes. (Almost similarly to how Lu did when Dusknoir asked to sit with him when he was a Riolu himself)

Ribbons that is such a mood lol get that old man!

Dusk would absolutely let her do that! He would wince a little at first and look a bit bewildered, but he'd pick up on her being playful very quickly and would secretly love indulging her because it seems to make her so happy (if the rapid wagging of her tail is any indication). He'd tug her around back and forth quite a bit, pulling her closer before letting her "get a leg on him" and jerk his arm back out, but he would be extremely careful with how much force he'd use to he wouldn't risk damaging her teeth. He'd be biting back his chuckles the whole time and definitely saying something along the lines of "you're quite the persistent girl, aren't you?" and Eliana's just snickering in the back bc all 7'3" of that old ghost is wrapped around Ribbons' (and Aimilios') little toebean. He just thinks they're so sweet and it comforts him to know that they're comfortable enough around him to want to play with him. (Be careful, Dadnoir. Momiana has already treaded on your territory but Dusk might also be considering fighting for custody.)

Aww, Aimilios! Lu would be so incredibly flattered by the little guy's admiration, but he'd be very meek about it. He's still not really used to being Guildmaster so anybody younger than him looking up to him as any sort of role-model kind of has him scratching his head a bit despite the plethora of life experience he has to share with advice. He would most definitely take Aimilios under his wing though, seeing a lot of his younger self in him, and he would offer to help him hone his aura-reading to be more acute (and maybe more similar to the sonar/echolocation-esque vision that Lu utilizes to "see"). Lu never expected to be a big brother/uncle figure but you'd best believe he will be giving it his best shot!

#fisara’s answers #dusknoir #eevee/ribbons #(at least that was my impression)#headcanons #riolu/aimilios #lucario/lu #my asks #my art

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bokettochild · 5 months ago

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Hi! First off, I sent some ramblings before, and I feel safe here to share my thoughts! Your blog is amazing, to start.

Okay, so I can't read your opera house AU, though I bet it is amazing. I just don't have AO3, and when I look it up, I can't find it, so that's fine! I read your thing where it described who each LU character was in your opera house AU, and I love how Legend is a jack of all trades.

(I think it's a jack of all trades. It might be a jock of all trades.🤷‍♀️)

I feel legend, is kinda of self-conscious about his voice and thinks he isn't good enough to be on stage. That's why he mostly stays backstage and fixes things for last minute, and lets Fable take the stage.

I feel like even though Legend has been there for...like all of his life, when he saw Dusk, Artemis, and Warriors, he kind of shrunk in on his talent, seeing how they were literally crowd-pleasers. Everyone loves them; the crowds go wild when they see them on stage.

I feel like this happened once when everyone went out to get something for the play they were doing. He went on stage and just sang a hard song that not even Artemis or Warriors could do, but he nailed it.

I also feel like he would act like Jeremy Jordan. Jeremy Jordan.

Jeremy Jordan Did Bonnie and Clyde the musical and the scene raise a little hell The song, the first one he does, this great acting where he acts like he got beaten horribly, he is terrified. I describe it badly, but if you look it up if you want, I feel like that's how legend would act. He would put his heart and soul into his acting.

I feel like the warriors accidentally bullied the legend once because of something that made him shrink in on himself more when it came to stage time.

Anyways I love your blog!

I'm sorry to hear that! I have most of my fics blocked so non-users can't see them, mostly due to the rise in bots on Ao3 scraping for works and stealing our creations. If you'd like though, I can post them here as well! I used to cross-post a lot of stuff, but I stopped when I realized I could never find the fics again after LOL

And yes! Legend is the jack-of-all-trades at the Crown City opera! He grew up in the opera house (Twilight, his uncle, has been a stage-hand there since he was a baby) so he's been able to learn first hand from masters of the trade how to do basically everything there is to know! He's not as good with paperwork and the advertising aspect, as most of that sort of thing is done by Lullaby and Dot, but he's got the bare-bones knowledge (there's a rumor that Lullaby made sure he knew because she intends to leave the opera to him one day, but it's just a rumor).

I don't know if Legend is so self-conscious about his voice, but he's definitely not aware of how good he is. Like I said; he grew up learning from the best, and a lot of the crew and cast found it fun to show him how to do stuff in their down time, so he's probably got a better education in music than anyone else in the building. However, because he doesn't take acting as his main role and mostly helps in the back, he's sort of fallen into the belief that he's only maybe slightly better than average. Is he? Heck no! He could probably give the divas a nice run for their money if he was trying hard enough! However, while he most certainly has given his all to every role (he really does love acting) he still maintains that he's an "average nobody" who fills in on occasion when someone calls out sick, or plays the lesser roles when they're short on cast.

The opera knows he's good, Lullaby knows he's good, and gosh do their audiences know he's good! but because Legend is under the impression that he's average, he doesn't seek more time in the spotlight. Additionally, since Lullaby knows he loves what he is doing (he very much enjoys his prop work and set creation and costuming opportunities, don't let the grumbling fool you), she doesn't see a reason to call on him excessively if that's not what he wants. After all, he wasn't hired to be part of the cast (although whether he was actually officially hired at all is unknown, although he's paid very well).

I will say he does compare his skill to the divas, but sort of in a casual way when he's talking to Hyrule and the rest of his team. Sort of in the whole manner of: "I'm not like Dusk or anything, there's a reason you don't see my face on the billboards". I will say he's probably compared himself a lot to them in this manner though and convinced himself that he's not that great in comparison, but he's chill with it because obviously he can't be good at everything, and he's good at his job, so that's what matters.

His biggest point when people bring up his skill is always that there's a reason the divas' names are well known and he's just crew. What he doesn't know is that he very much has a near cult following and there are theories online. He's not very present on social media or anything, but their audiences know there is this one actor/actress who appears sometimes to fill roles or to cover when the headliners can't be there. Nobody knows what said actor/actress's name is, and they actually aren't even sure what gender he is, they just know said person has a lot of skill and they wish he'd show up more!

Lullaby is aware of this, but again, she respects Legend's choice to do his job, and also has no interest in throwing him to the dogs by releasing his name if he doesn't want her too. She wants him to have a normal life, thank you, not get hounded by media and fans like some of her staff are.

His skill is totally comparable to Jeremy Jordan though! Absolutely love that idea (and the idea that maybe he sounds like him too!)

As for the whole Warriors suggestion, I think they both tease each other back and forth a lot. Warriors is a good few years older, so he isn't mean with it, but considering their dynamic, it's not too far out there to suppose that maybe he once teasingly commented on Legend's singing skill with the intent of implying it was good, but Legend (pessimist that he is) assumed it was negative. In which case, he probably is a bit self-conscious about it sometimes, although it's less noticeable. It'd be more like he doesn't sing as loudly while working if he hears Wars nearby, and gets touchy when the diva talks about his skills. Wars isn't a jerk though, so he probably is clueless about the mix-up.

With all this in mind though, I can totally see the main story (when I do actually write it, LOL) featuring Legend as that sidelined, super-star-level nobody who teaches our lead (Hyrule) how to absolutely wow the crowds. Would he know why Hyrule asked him? No. He probably assumes Rule just asked the guy he actually knows, that and the divas are unapproachable or smth, or maybe because Legend's been here a while. Man has no clue, but he will help Hyrule to the best of his abilities!

#asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #opera house au

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myreia · 2 months ago

Text

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 28: Deleterious

eons ago, a different conversation at the end of a different world. venat & azem. major endwalker spoilers. final days headcanons. written for ffxivwrite2024. 1409 words ao3 link

Dusk falls upon on a ruined world.

Iphigeneia sits in the Hall of the Convocation amidst a sea of shattered glass. The shards scatter across broken and bloodied tile bloodied tile, no rhyme or reason to their pattern, glinting bloodred in the light of the descending sun. She could have taken her seat—it is one of the few still standing—and yet she found herself drawn to the centre. She stood here once, before she claimed her seat, judged before the fourteen persons chosen to guide their people, and thus their star. She recalls how her predecessor sat upon that very throne that day, white hair pulled back, the glyph of Azem upon her face, blue eyes glowing keenly from beneath her mask. The proud smile that graced her lips when she was judged worthy of the seat.

An eon ago, or close enough to it.

The sky beyond the broken windows bleed red. Vibrant, with orange and purple lines streaking through it. It would be stunning, if not for the dark god growing on the horizon, hanging in the heavens like a falling star trapped in the planet’s atmosphere. Held in place, gorging on the souls that sustain it. Once He was little more than a purple spot in the sky, as distant as a star. But now He grows day by day, until some day He will blot out the sun.

Their saviour. Their end.

Zodiark’s power is vast, His aether unparalleled. A primal capable of rewriting the laws of the star, halting the catastrophe the way a dam blocks a river. A terrible solution for a terrible catastrophe, a solution reached after months of debate here at the top of their lofty tower even as the city below shook and wailed and screamed and died. And yet she cannot help but wonder what now stirs within it, what horror they have unleashed. Umbral can still, umbral can stop, but umbral will grow.

How many more will they lose to feed a devouring god?

Oh, Hades. Little brother. What have you done?

She has not seen him since before the Summoning, when the terror of fear was made manifest and Amaurot ran red with blood. Even the outskirts were not safe; every city, every town, every village across the entire star was cannibalizing itself. And yet it was her choice to turn her back on them. She could not bring herself to vote between sacrificing her people and watching them murder each other in the street. Not when she was so close to finding the answer—the true answer—entangled at the centre of it.

A secret within a secret within a secret.

The brightest minds of the Convocation—experts in their field, all—swore stagnating aether currents were the root of the cause. She did not agree. The conclusion did not make sense. To lose control of creation to such an extent could not be the work of rotten aether, unless they have been misguided in the fundamentals of aether for thousands of years.

She brought her concerns to Lahabrea, thinking her lover—the cleverest of them all, to his own detriment—would at least hear her out, and found them dismissed.

She brought them to Emet-Selch, and again they were dismissed.

Finally, she brought them to Elidibus, pleading for him to intercede. He did not agree.

And so she left.

The Defector she is now. Traitor. The one who turned her back on them at the darkest hour, refusing the role they wished her to play.

Iphigeneia exhales a breath and raises her head, her pale golden hair falling about her shoulders as she regards the sky. This will be her final day in Amaurot. Soon, she will be free of the Capitol for good. Return to Aulis, where her daughter waits. Where her work continues.

This is the last step.

“Iphigeneia.” A familiar voice washes over her—clear, crisp, strong. Though where once she would have found it reassuring, now she finds it… wrong. “I have come as you asked.”

Iphigeneia pauses, back straight, frozen in her spot. Glass crunches beneath Venat’s steps as her erstwhile mentor approaches and she sits beside her, legs folded beneath, her unbound white hair tumbling about her shoulders, stained red by the light. Though she hates to say it, her mentor has changed in the passing years, even before the catastrophe struck. The event in Elpis, the one shrouded in much mystery, changed her as much as it changed Hades. “You say that as if you intend to parlay,” she says, ignoring the hollow discomfort in her gut. “But we are not opposed, as far as I know.”

“You left the Convocation.”

“I would not take part in any of it.”

“You speak with such venom.” Venat raises her head, regarding the seat of Azem. “But the Convocation simply seeks to secure the future of our star.”

“This is not a future I had any desire to see.”

Silence. The wind howls beyond the broken windows, whistling through shattered stone and glass.

“The offer still stands,” Venat says. “I would gladly have you at my side in the days to come.”

“And my answer is still no,” Iphigeneia replies.

“An answer I will not speak ill of. Your reasons are your own.”

“You say that, and yet in the same breath you pry, oh mentor dearest.” She pauses, her expression growing grim. As the sun descends, the seat of Azem grows tall in the dark, casting a long shadow across them both. “I am not one of your followers, easily swayed by clever speeches and pretty words. I am not that judicial officer from the Bureau of the Architect, hanging onto your every word, idolizing us both without a unique thought in her head. You forget I know you as well as I know myself. This is no simple mission to rebalance the star, countering Darkness with Light. That is the front. What lies behind?”

“None. Zodiark grows unrestrained, but his power is not eternal. Not without more sacrifice. A permanent solution must be found. That is the truth of it.”

“All of the truth?”

Venat regards her, her gaze sorrowful, yet firm. She glances away, looking to the seat of Lahabrea. Charred and blackened and turned to ash, its glyph glowing like embers. “That is all I am at liberty to say.”

The discomfort returns, worse than before. They once shared everything—why can she not share this? “Who decides the liberty, Venat?” she asks coldly. “You? For what reason are you sworn to secrecy, or will you still not tell me what happened that day in Elpis?”

Venat pauses, her gaze passing now to Elidibus’ seat. The chair is split in twain, its glyph stained and smashed and scratched into oblivion. Not that he has much use for it now. Not when he sits at the heart of Zodiark. “I cannot say.”

Cannot say, cannot say… Is there anything she is willing to say? Iphigeneia has been chasing the vestiges of this secret for more years than she can count. A familiar attributed to her, a woman with the colour of her soul. A disruption in Elpis. Memories lost. Kairos run amuck… The pieces are there, but they are jumbled together so nonsensically that she cannot yet see the full picture. But she knows enough now to point at a horrifying truth, one that drove her to invite her mentor here.

She has told no one of what she suspects. Not even the few who remain she trusts, which is very few indeed. For the truth is both wild and unbelievable as it is horrifying and damning. If she is right, it would break their hearts as surely as it has hers. There is no power as unsettling as that of time.

At last, Iphigeneia rises to her feet, her footsteps echoing hollowly on the broken tile beneath. She stands before Venat, her piercing golden orange eyes gazing down upon her, the seat of Azem towering behind. “Then tell me this, mentor mine,” she says at last. “Did you know? Did you know what our future held?”

Venat does not answer. She simply looks ahead, regarding the seat of Emet-Selch, one of the few that has escaped the disaster unscathed.

The sound of her silence speaks more than words.

Iphigeneia’s jaw clenches. She strides from the chamber without further word and does not look back.

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #writing tag #myreiawrites2024 #venat #azem #endwalker #endwalker spoilers

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lifesver · 23 days ago

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(not) lil dire verse starter for @t4mpered / cw the usual dusk topics

bar is hazy with low laughter, and the warm rumble of a jukebox in the corner of the room — staticy, playing some old country song leland doesn't recognize. a little more lively than normal, though, leland thinks — or, maybe it’s just already the weekend, and he's lost track of his days, again.

leland's been here a few times now — quiet and subdued at johnny's heels. watch, learn. mirror. don't look so wide-eyed and scared. don't act like some skittish outsider. but he still feels out-of-place. it smells like mildew and cigarettes and stale beer in here, and rough-faced men sit perched on barstools, trying to chat up the pretty young bartender. real blue-collar types; ones johnny seemed to know most of by name, that leland didn't want to get caught looking at wrong.

he sends a nervous glance across the room — looking for a familiar shadow leaning on the wall, staring him down — but doesn't find him. it makes leland fidget with the handle of the blade in his jacket pocket. wouldn't he have told you, if this was another test? an odd worry settles in the pit of his stomach; what if something happened, and he doesn’t come back for you? what if —

( — what if you snuck away to that payphone outside, again? )

his fingers twitch at carved handle, agitated. eyes flick across the faces in the room again. breathe. you're fine, you can do this, you can — leland forces his shoulders to relax. it’s probably fine; he would be back. wouldn't let something get out of hand. wouldn’t let him get hurt, or anything like that — right? even if he isn’t watching leland from afar, others in this bar probably are. that's what johnny said; eyes everywhere, in this town.

he's supposed to pick out a stranger. a drifter, or a passer-through. someone who might not be missed. maybe, someone who seemed... vulnerable. leland tastes something sick in the back of his throat; there's no illusions of what he's here to do. what he’s done before — what’s expected. ( — and you want to do well for him, don’t you? show you’ve gotten better, that he can trust you. that he doesn't have to put you back down in the dark. you can be good enough — )

he scans the room again. johnny would say it like this; most people are lookin’ for something. then the trick was — you'd play that role for them; a friend, a hookup, sometimes a fight. whatever it took, to get them following you out to a secluded place — which, it got a little easier to do, when you pretended to be someone else. anyone else. anyone besides leland mckinney, officially, legally, dead. even if whatever he is, now, wanders around regardless of an obituary entry — lifelike in every way — with a heart that thuds and rattles, like a cold stone in his chest.

maybe in some sickeningly guilty way, it’s freeing. to smile, to give fake names to strangers. to know that no one’s going to match his face to a missing poster — not in this town, anyway. or, maybe not anywhere, now. people kept to themselves, around here. and if the past year had taught him anything — it was to forget about the idea of anyone in this god-forsaken town helping him.

leland blinks. opening chords of the next song roll fuzzy from the old jukebox; i need you, lynyrd skynyrd. he remembers, mostly, because he remembers when they started playing it on the radio, in the summer. he remembers trying to memorize the words, muffled through the dirt wall. it hums low in his throat as he spots his stranger, a dark silhouette by the bar, turned away from him. leland pauses just a moment, eyes fluttering closed as he performs the familiar practice, of putting all the roiling anxiety in him under cement. takes a measured breath to steady himself — okay. okay — find out what this stranger is looking for. you're fine. you can do this.

ain't no need to worry

there ain't no use to cry

'cause i'll be comin' home soon —

leland settles with his back to the bar, parallel to his stranger. at first it’s just a brush of contact, a bump of elbows, that could easily be written off as accidental. he gives a small sidelong glance to the man's profile, noting closed body language, static practically rolling off tense shoulders. but, definitely not a local, leland thinks, with a touch of bitterness — guy lacks the distinct grimy film this place tends to suffocate you with. but — there's something else, that makes his stomach twist in knots. something that stings nostalgic in the man's scruff and shaggy hair, the hard furrow of his brow. in that weathered brown jacket.

( " say somethin' " the far-away voice tries to reach him. as scared as him.

" ... leland? " )

— you know i get so lonely

that i feel i can't go on,

leland's eyes wander back to the blinking lights on the jukebox, and names that are not his own shift around behind his teeth. ❝ … they look lost in their own world, ❞ he comments, candidly. and nods toward the center of the room — where a couple of drunken patrons were in a slow, woozy sway to the music. a woman throwing her head back with laughter as her dance partner spins her around under the dim, gaudy lights. it looks a little silly, to him. it looks… romantic.

leland’s chest squeezes. he keeps eyes down, tracing the frayed stitching on the sleeve of stranger’s leather jacket. ❝ — what about you? ❞ leland smiles softly, mostly to himself, ❝ you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. ❞ god. he knows the feeling.

#cw dusk vibes #sorry as you might expect this got out of hand sorry for exposition city once again #anyway im normal about the trajectory #( ☆ ) ⸻ THE FILM WHICH YOU ARE ABOUT TO SEE... / ic.#t4mpered

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elains · 1 year ago

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Some ideas on Theia, Fionn, Pelias and the High Lords

Since House of Flame and Shadow is coming out soon, I want to leave this registered here for posterity hahaha. I'm doing most of this by memory, I haven't really reread, so any mistakes you find that's probably it lol. Also this is WAY more focused on CCity and its character's than ACOTAR proper.

ACOSF introduces us to the Daglan and Fionn, the First and Only High King of Prythian. According to the Prythian side of the legend, he has a sword called Gwydion which was dipped into the Cauldron by the High Priestess Oleanna, which he used to defeat the Daglan. Milennia of peace followed, the land was divided in the precursors to the courts, but then they were at the brink of war. He became High King and was betrayed by his best friend and his Queen, who was also queen of her own territory in her own right.

In Crescent City, we are introduced to the figure of Queen Theia, the Starborn Queen who led the Fae out of their homeworld and brought them to Midgard. She had two daughters, Helena and an unnamed second one. She was betrayed by her most trusted general, Pelias, who then married her daughter and forced her to bear his children. Her other daughter escaped, never to be heard from again. The Starsword beloged to Theia. Come HOSAB, we learn it and Gwydion are one and the same.

Applying Occam's Razor to these two characters, the simplest outcome is that Theia was Fionn's wife and the one who betrayed him, Helena and Nameless Daughter are their children, and Pelias is the best friend and general who betrayed him. Fionn probably wasn't a great person because let's be real, Theia found Aidas later and SJMs has a thing for making past love interests looking bad when a new one is in town (example: Shahar for Hunt).

I don't want Fionn to have been evil! And I guess this is what these ideas boil down to. I'm not even gonna call them theories because they aren't really based on hard evidence. Just fun What Ifs, possible parallels, headcanons. Who knows? So without further ado:

What If Pelias played the role of Iago?

We all know Pelias is utter trash. He betrayed his Queen and forcibly married her daughter so she could be the mother of his now royal children. If he was Fionn's best friend, I have exactly zero reason to think he wasn't trash and power hungry then too. All in all, regardless of what Theia and Fionn's relationship was like (and I want to believe they were both good people), I believe Pelias was the root of all evil.

I can see him feeling inferior to both: Theia with her blazing starlight compared to his meagre one and Fionn was probably remarkable in his own way. I like to think that though they didn't love each other, there was respect and trust and even camaraderie. They both played their part in expelling the Daglan. Fionn got to be High King and married Theia, who was Queen of Dusk. He was their friend, relegated to their shadows.

This gets even juicier if we accept as true that Pelias was always a Starborn Prince. Maybe he was Theia's illegitimate brother, maybe a distant relative. I can see him wanting everything his friends have: the crown of High King, the title of King of Dusk, everything. Greed and Jealousy that drove him to manipulate his closest friends into turning against each other and ended with Theia slaying Fionn.

He never got to reap the rewards in Prythian, though: Theia's killing of Fionn sent the realm into disarray. We are told the Fae were lured to Midgard, and I think that's because Theia took the chance to flee a whole land that wanted her dead for her crime either for justice or their own greed (we will come back to it). Theia escaped believing Pelias was her friend and trusted general. I don't think they were ever lovers. Maybe that too played a role in his jealousy and anger, how Theia never loooked his way and found love with Aidas.

Regardless, he betrayed and murdered her anyway, dooming her daughter to a lifetime of unhappiness.

What if Fionn and Theia were siblings?

Frequently, across Crescent City, we hear that the Starborn have intermarried to keep their bloodline pure (how utterly Targaryen of them). We have yet to hear about any historical examples of such unions, but Fionn and Theia provide a fine opportunity for this to be brought to the table. The Last Starborns marrying out of duty to keep their bloodline pure in their old world. It also goes well with how Gwydion and Truthteller are siblings blades, one belonging to each.

Could Theia have been a Queen of her own territory in her own right then if they were siblings? Why not? Plenty of queens in history were queens in their own right, regardless of their husbands. She could have been the oldest and heir to the Dusk Territory, Fionn the younger sibling who was chosen as the High King. Or maybe he was the eldest and gave up the throne to her. Maybe the territory passed down in the female line or to the strongest starborn. In any case, it's not really a hurdle.

In this scenario, Pelias as their best friend (distant relative/bastard half-sibling/wtv) still works. In fact, it complements it because it highlights Pelias's hatred and envy for them both. They get everything, he gets nothing. Taken further if Fionn didn't have the Starborn's light, but was a legitimate prince.

It would also create an interesting parallel between Ruhn and Bryce. Siblings, one dark and one light. "Maybe there's a knife for me out there", Bryce herself says. Ruhn's the older brother and as far as we know, the heir, but it's Bryce who is most often compared to a Queen. Not him, though if I recall, Bryce think she will be a good ruler. She is right. Ruhn might carry Pelias light, true, but his shadows are Fionn's.

This time, it doesn't end in tragedy.

What if Theia was Fionn's daughter?

This is VERY far-fetched, I freely admit to it, and was born out of me trying to rationalize the difference between ACOSF and CCity: Gwydion is Fionn's sword, but it'salso the Starsword, which is Theia's.

Simplest solution is either: it was Fionn's and Theia took it all after she killed him and Midgard doesn't have the full story or it was always Theia's and Prythian remembers it incorrectly. The Dread Trove we know was likely made by the Asteri and it wasn't originally Fionn's.

Crackpot theory: Fionn was the Starborn King, hero to the Fae, and married the Night Queen to secure his rule (that's where shadow power would have com into the bloodline). Fionn and his Queen have a daughter, Theia, and Theia herself has two daughters of her own. Who fathered these kids is 100% irrelevant. Sarah didn't give the Archeron sister's father a name, I'm not holding my breath he isn't just a no one.

Pelias is Fionn's best friend and general, and madly jealous of the man. Likely wants to marry his daughter, too. In any case, he and the Queen betray and murder Fionn, intent on setting Theia on the throne. In the end, Pelias tricks Theia into believing it was all her mother, and he is on her side. The Night Queen, ruler of Nightmares, was always a means to an end. Maybe she was aligned with the Asteri too, considering the Wild Hunt imagery in the CoN.

Or maybe the Queen was dead by then, and history has conflated her with Theia. Maybe Theia, Queen after her mother, thought her father was becoming a tyrant and decided to kill him. Maybe Pelias pushed her into it, thinking he could marry her. We actually never know how long Fionn reigned. Theia never stole anything at all: it was always hers by right. She was to be the next High Queen.

And then the High Lords intervened.

What if the reason Theia fled to Midgard was because of the High Lords?

Theia was lured by the Asteri to Midgard. But why? Why did she gave up everything in her former world to a new one? What could have driven her to take such a risk? I think she wouldn't have, had she any other choice. Theia was, to put it simply, pushed against a corner because she had a rebellion in her hands.

If she killed Fionn and he was recognized as the High King and well loved, this may as well have started a rebellion. Not even because he was a good king (maybe he was), but for their own power. The Royal House is in disarray, regardless of its familial arrangement, and what better place to strike? They do not want a High Queen whatsoever.

So they attack Theia. Maybe at some point she loses parts of the Dread Trove, which is why Helion has the reaction he has to the mask: it's an echo from when his ancestor used it against Theia. In any case, she's fighting a losing war. Her people will be eliminated. She's losing and desperte, and the Asteri's call is her salvation. She doesn't notice the trap.

Victorious, the High Lords weave history to be whatever he wanted, twisting or erasing the role she played. And, perhaps, this is why there have been no High Ladies: there's magic preventing it, magic which the first High Lords established to keep the power at bay, because Fionn's only heirs were women.

And this closes the bunch of ideas I wanted to write down lmao. Probably none of this will become canon but hey, it's fun to think of other possibilities! Again, this was all by memory, incosistences galore, self-indulgent, I don't really expect any (except Pelias is the Iago but that's pribably what EVERYONE thinks, but I needed to write it down for the rest to make sense you know).

#ccity #hosab #acotar #hoeab #sjm #crackpot theory

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